The fight that didn't happen
by 10miles
Summary: At the end of season 1 there might have been a barfight but it didn't happen. I wondered what it would have looked like, so this is my first fanfic ever.Comments and corrections are very welcomed !
1. Chapter 1 scotch and concrete

Another long day in the clinic gone by.

Boring clinic duty, avoiding Cuddy, and one annoyingly stupid youngster who wanted to get out of gym class. Thought it wouldn't be that much of a deal to sprain his ankle but accidentally managed to break it by jumping of a 6 foot high wall.

It had caused him to miss 20 minutes of his soap.

House sat at the bar, swirling his glass of scotch and ice, occasionally taking a sip and smugly enjoying the fact that he managed not to have to go to the boring seminar Cuddy and Wilson were attending at that time. Wilson had commented on how he conveniently seemed to not have been invited, and House had shoved the waste paper basket a bit further under his desk with his left foot.

He didn't want to think about work, because work automatically brought Stacey to mind.

It was hard enough to be around Stacey - and Mark - all day long, he thought, staring into the depths of the golden liquor, and he didn't want her in his head on top of that. He took another gulp of his drink.

Let's just sit here for half an hour or so, and go home, no obligations. A comfy chair, a TV and a piano, maybe some music and some micro-waved food . And maybe some more scotch.

He put down some money on the counter, put his coat on and reached for his cane, then headed for the door towards the parking lot.

Just outside he heard glass shattering and as he got closer he saw two teens breaking in to a red van that was parked nearby.

"Hey !", he yelled..

But in stead of running away, scared because someone caught them red handed, the kids headed for House.

Not the best move ever, he thought.

"Listen…", he began, but before he could finish the sentence one of the guys punched him hard in his stomach.

He folded over, gasping for air , still dazed glimpsed up only to see a round kick coming his way.

He half attempted to block it by swinging his cane at the fast approaching leg, but was much too late.

He registered the clattering of wood on the asphalt as a shoe made contact with his upper arm making it go temporarily numb. Bloody hell, it's not even my own car ! he thought. Trying to maintain his balance he put his weight on his right leg, that predictably gave way and seconds later he was on the ground. Pain shooting through his thigh, gasping in agony, nausea came over him.

And then another kick to his ribs...his leg...too much pain...followed by darkness.


	2. Chapter 2 help and cellphones

A vague melodic sound started to grow louder in his ears.

House opened his eyes, where the hell am I ? Parking lot…

He sat half upright but then quickly stopped moving as a shooting pain went through his right knee and thigh, as well as the ribs on his right side.

The sound that woke him up had stopped.

Cell phone, he thought.

His head suddenly getting clearer again. What time is it, how long have I been out ?

He reached in his pocket, grabbed his cell and the bottle of Vicodin. Took two pills and while he waited for them to take the worst off, he glanced at his watch. 10 minutes, only 10 minutes at most had passed. No concussion or blows to the head, I just passed out.

Those ninja-kids by now are long gone of course.

What on earth had he been thinking ! Trying to stop two delinquents from stealing someone else's radio.

He saw his cane a few feet from where he sat.

Again tried to move, something was definitely wrong with his knee. A different pain from what he was used to. He managed to drag himself to where his cane was and struggled for a moment to pull himself up. He couldn't much bend his right leg, couldn't put any weight on it.

You idiot ! he told himself, as he slowly hopped to his car heavily leaning on his cane. Fumbled with shaky hands for the keys, opened the door and lowered himself on to the drivers seat. He quickly tried to assess the damage. Bruised ribs, but probably not broken, few scrapes from where his hands and face had connected with the asphalt. Slightly bruised upper arm making leaning on the cane unpleasant. And very likely some damage to a ligament in his knee.

Not that bad, but enough to make the knee unstable and in combination with the results from the infarction it was impossible to walk on it. He let out a heavy sigh. Nothing that couldn't heal giving some time passed. Thank God no irreversible damage done, Thank God it wasn't his left leg..

Still.. so stupid !

Pushing the chair back as far as it would go he could just stretch his leg out in front of him without bending it too much, and as he closed the door he realized there would be no way on earth he was able to drive himself home.

He rested his head against the glass of the window, then got his phone and punched in a number.

" God House ! We're in the middle of a conference here ! ", Wilson whispered.

"Yeah, sorry, I know how much you like attending those things." He said sarcasticly. Then a bit softer : "I need you to pick me up, I'm in the parking lot at Danny's. " He hang up before Wilson could ask anything else and checked his phone to see who's call it had been earlier. Clearly Wilson and Cuddy were still busy listening to one boring speech after the other, none of them would have called. The Caller ID read "Stacey"...He turned the phone off and flipped it closed again, didn't feel like calling her back anyway, and sat with his eyes closed waiting for Wilson to turn up.

Half an hour later the headlights of a familiar car approached and Wilson pulled up beside him, got out and tapped on Houses window.

House opened the door but didn't get out.


	3. Chapter 3 sleep and feeble protests

Wilson noticed the shaved side of House's face and asked a bit hesitantly : "Are you all right ? What happened ? Did you get mugged ? "

"No, I tried to save someone's radio . Got in between that and two martial artists. I really should learn to keep my mouth shut. Bruised ribs, few scrapes. My leg hurts. Can you drive me home ?"

"Er, sure", Wilson replied. Then another familiar face popped up next to him.

House blinked and growled : "You brought Cuddy !"

"Yeah, well.. I tried calling you back but you didn't pick up...we thought it might be urgent.. I was going to drop her off at her place but we figured we might meet you first. Which is a good thing because she can take my car and follow us. "

"Move over, I'll drive."

House slowly moved his legs outside, pulled himself up on the doorframe and Cuddy remarked : "You're not putting any weight on your leg."

"Really", snapped House.

"You need to get that looked at", Cuddy decided.

"Oh, come on !" replied House, "I'm a doctor, I know what is wrong. It's my leg. I'll be fine ! Just need to get home, get some ice." "Now, first help me to the other side."

"No, not you !" he growled at Cuddy who stepped forward, "you're too short."

He grabbed Wilson's arm , took one hop, then switched his cane to his left hand and put his right arm over Wilson's shoulders. Slowly they made it to the other side where Wilson helped House lower himself on to the passenger seat.

As he made himself as comfortable as possible and fastened his seat-belt. He saw Cuddy and Wilson exchanging a few words. When Wilson got back in he asked : "What was that about ?"

"She needed my car keys, said she'd follow us to your house and then let me drive her home."

They drove off, both silent, House shifting uncomfortably every once in a while.

"Thanks", House said to Wilson. "Thanks for coming."

"Any time." House turned on the radio and took another Vicodin.

But as Wilson turned right a couple of minutes later House said angrily : "Forget the recent gratitude - home was to the left, you are not taking me to the hospital !"

"If you keep protesting I'll order a stretcher for you", threatened Wilson.

House kept grumbling. "What are you going to do about it, jump out and run off ? You need to get yourself looked after." And after a short silence he added. "You don't look that good."

"Fine then..."House finally gave in as they parked in front of the hospital entrance, he was too tired to put up a good fight anyway. Just wanted to get home, take some painkillers and try to sleep.


End file.
